Insanity
by Phoenix122333
Summary: Various instances of Harry going completely insane. Being brushed off by McGonagall, Riddle and the Chamber, seeing what Rita was ACTUALLY writing down, Umbridge's Blood Quills, and Snape's Occlumency. Updates will be posted in chronological order, so a chapter taking place before chapter 3 but after chapter 2 would bump chapter 3 to chapter 4. Previously called Interview.
1. Dismissed

The Golden Trio tore up the aisle between the desks of McGonagall's classroom and stopped in front of her desk, panting. After barely a moment Harry managed to get out urgently, "We need to see Professor Dumbledore, immediately!". A bewildered McGonagall stared for a moment, then explained, "I'm afraid Professor Dumbledore is not here. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately for London.". "He's gone?! Now?", Harry cried out in dismay, "But this is important! It's about the Philosopher's Stone!". McGonagall's eyes widened in shock, and she managed to get out a feeble, "How do you know…?", before Harry blurted out, "Somebody's going to try and steal it!". Composing herself quickly, McGonagall said crisply, "I don't know how you three found out about the stone, but I can assure you it is perfectly well-protected. Now would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly.".

Now, you must understand that Harry had been brushed off all his life. His teachers, his relatives, everyone he tried to tell something important to either thought he was lying or thought he was taking credit for what Dudley had done. He thought he had quashed down all the irritation and sadness at not being believed…but quashing something and hiding it away are remarkably similar. And right now, being told that somebody stealing the most powerful alchemical artefact in the world was pure and utter hogwash brought those feelings back to the surface. So, with all the stress coming from worrying about the stone, and with that huge influx of emotion, something inside Harry just…snapped.

"No.", he declared, straightening up, "We will _not _go back to our dormitories.". He placed his hands on her desk and reiterated, "Professor, we just told you that somebody is going to try to steal the Philosopher's Stone. An artefact that could be used in conjunction with ancient magicks to bring the Dark Lord Voldemort back to life.". McGonagall flinched at the name, but Harry continued. "An artefact that could be used to make unlimited amounts of gold, and therefore destroy the carefully-balanced economy of the entire Wizarding World. We tell you that it's going to be stolen, and you just brush us off like dust off your robes. Well I won't stand for it!". He grabbed the wrists of both McGonagall and Ron, who had Hermione clutching onto his forearm, and with a huge influx of power and a crack that echoed throughout the entire castle, he broke through the ancient wards and Apparated to the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side.

"This is the door that leads to the room Fluffy is in.", Harry told McGonagall when everyone had regained their bearings, "Hermione opened it with a first-year Alohomora.". He himself then opened it with an Alohomora, and McGonagall's eye widened. They widened further when she saw Fluffy, but Harry simply took out a pre-charmed guitar he had bought in Diagon Alley and tapped it with his wand. A soothing melody began resonating from the strings, and soon Fluffy was snoring peacefully. Harry levitated the dog's paw out of the way and opened the trapdoor, taking out another store-bought bauble. It was a witch-light, 'rather fitting' he had thought at the time, and when he tapped it with his wand it lit up. He dropped it down the hole and, after a few seconds, it hit the bottom of the shaft. "A soft and squishy plant to soften the fall and put a thief into a false sense of security. The plant itself is probably very deadly, though. Hermione?", Harry asked his friend, and she replied instantly, "Devil's Snare, a deceptively deadly plant that binds and strangles it's victims before they can react. It dislikes heat and light.". Harry hummed a short 'hmmm', then shot an _Incendio _down at it. The plant withered and shied away from the flames, and Harry jumped down without further ado. Near the bottom he cast _Wingardium Leviosa _on his clothes and settled softly on the floor, then levitated the other three down.

"Mr. Potter, I must ask what the meaning of this is!", McGonagall demanded, and Harry looked over his shoulder with an almost bored expression. "A first year just made it past two of your so-called 'impenetrable defenses' just to prove you wrong. Imagine if it was someone who wanted to actually get the Stone.". This gave McGonagall something to think about, and she didn't speak again until they emerged from the hall and found themselves in a large, circular chamber. "Flitwick's defense.", McGonagall said, "Flying keys charmed to attack anybody who mounts those brooms over there.". She pointed at said brooms, but Harry wasn't interested. "_Immobulus._", he said almost lazily, then, "_Accio _key for that door.". A huge, rusty key with a bent wing zoomed into his hand, weaving around the immobilized others. He inserted it into the lock and opened the door, gesturing graciously for the other three to enter. They did so with no small amount of hesitation.

A short hallway later they found themselves in a dimly lit room, torches flaring a moment later to reveal a chessboard. "Well this is just suspicious.", Harry commented offhandedly, and McGonagall looked at him sharply. "I'm sorry, Mister Potter?", she asked him, and he elaborated, "I bet Dumbledore suggested this, right? Well, it just so happens that one of my best friends is the best chess player Hogwarts has ever seen.", ignoring Ron's puffing up in pride, "He'd have no problem playing across if it came to that. As it is…". He trailed off and simply walked around the board by way of the trench defeated pieces were sent to, stepping carefully over the shards of the pieces there. The others followed, McGonagall blushing sheepishly.

The door behind the line of black pieces opened into a horrible-smelling room, and in the middle of that room sat a fully-grown mountain troll. "I think we've already established we could take care of this.", Harry said, and with a twist of his wand and a whisper of, "_Somnium._", the troll was sent to sleep. He walked briskly to the other door, the others following with their robes over their noses and their eyes darting between the troll and Harry.

The third room Harry ignored the potions completely, saying as the flames sprang up, "My History of Magic textbook mentioned that witches and wizards escaped the Salem witch burnings with flame-freezing charms, so I looked one up.", he explained, and with a muttered, "_Frigidus ignis_.", he simply walked through the black flames. The others followed after McGonagall cast the same spell on them, and down a short flight of steps was a large oblong room with the Mirror of Erised in the middle. "Here we are, the room containing the Stone!", Harry exclaimed happily, walking forward to gaze into the Mirror. He stood there for a few moments, then told them, "This is the Mirror of Erised, an enchanted mirror that shows what you want most.", pointing at the inscription on the top of the Mirror and saying, "I show not your face, but your heart's desire. This is probably the only thing that would stump anyone trying to get the Stone. Stump, but not defeat.". Looking the Mirror up and down, Harry continued, "Professor Dumbledore probably wanted to capture the person trying to steal the Stone, not stop them.".

"Well done, Mr. Potter.", a voice drawled from behind them, and three of the four whirled around in alarm. Harry simply turned with an air of in-control calmness and came face to face with…a sarcastically-clapping Professor Quirrel. "Hey Squirrel.", Harry said nonchalantly, giving a small smile as the possessed teacher twitched, "Come for the Stone, have you?". Quirrel raised an eyebrow and said, "Very good, Mr. Potter. How did you guess it was me?". "Hmm, let's see.", Harry began with the tone of somebody stating the obvious, "Whenever you're nearby my scar starts to hurt, said scar was given to me by the most evil Dark Lord in a century, and that turban you got from the African tribe? No African tribe _I_ know of uses turbans as a reward. Not to mention that cliché garlic-with-a-hint-of-undead smell.". He shrugged and added, "Besides, nobody _that _seemingly pathetic couldn't _not _be evil. So, who's that on the back of your head, then?". Professor McGonagall looked at Harry in alarm, but Quirrel merely smiled and reached up, beginning to unwind his turban. Hermione, who had switched from Ron to Harry when she saw how in-control he was, clutched his arm in fright as the Professor slash professional actor drew the big reveal out further than was strictly necessary. Harry finally got tired of waiting and shot an _Incendio_ at the turban.

"GYAH!", Quirrel yelled, unwinding the flaming turban faster. He had no doubt used an Undetectable Expansion charm because the thing went on further than should have been possible for a Harry H HHHHHturban of that size, but finally he got to the end and flung in on the ground. Panting slightly, Quirrel ground out a, "Have you no patience, Mr. Potter?", and Harry answered cheerfully, "Nope.". Quirrel gave him a flat look as he said, "Right.". Clearing his throat and composing his face, he continued, "So, Mr. Potter, you know why I am here. Give me the Stone and you won't what am I standing in?", he suddenly broke off. He had been slowly stalking forward, and his foot had landed in a rather large puddle of red liquid. "Would you believe it's strawberry milkshake?", Harry asked him innocently, and Quirrel deadpanned, "No.". "Gryffindor courage?", Harry proposed, and Quirrel raised his voice slightly with his next, "_No._"."Dungeon nectar?", Harry put forth, and Quirrel said with a demanding tone, "Mr. Potter!". Harry sighed and relented, "Fine. It's that lovely Slytherin couple from seventh year.".

You could hear the surprised blinks.

"Come again?", Quirrel said after a moment, and Harry shrugged and said, "They were threatening me.". Quirrel looked down at the mess coating his shoes and asked, half in wonder and half in fear, "How did you even _do _this? You're a first year!". "A dollop of fairy dust.", Harry confided with a smile, and Quirrel gave him a look. "Seriously, Mr. Potter.", he said, and Harry replied immediately, "I ripped the tag off a mattress.". "Mr. Potter.", Quirrel said more firmly, and Harry said, "A clothespin and some ingenuity.". "Mr. Potter!", Quirrel yelled, and Harry asked pleasantly, "Yes?". "I demand you tell me how you-", Quirrel began, but he was cut off by Harry's yell of, "Now!". Hermione had been sneaking off to the side inconspicuously, and at Harry's yell she pulled a lever hiding behind a pillar. The floor underneath Quirrel vanished, and he fell into a dark hole.

"Well, that went well.", Harry said with satisfaction, Ron and Hermione nodding happily, "Come on guys, it's dinner time!". Dramatic music came out of nowhere, and lightning flashed across the ceiling. "Alright then.", Harry said after a moment. "Now hold on!", McGonagall protested after a moment of gathering her thoughts, "What…what just happened?!". "We trapped Quirrel in a hole.", Harry said with that 'duh' tone. "Well, yes, but…how?!", she asked helplessly, and Harry replied, "Trial and error, Professor. …Mostly error.".

_-Earlier-_

"Pull the lever, Ron!", Harry commanded, and Ron pulled the lever. "_Wrong leveeeeeerrrr…_!", Harry's yell echoed from the hole.

_-Now-_

"Why did you even _have _that letter?", Hermione asked curiously, and Harry took a breath to answer…paused…then said, "I've no idea.". "Right!", McGonagall interrupted, "So, what's this?", gesturing to the mess Quirrel had stepped in. "Strawberry jam.", Harry said with a laugh. "Oh, good.", Professor McGonagall said with a sigh, and _Scourgify_'dit away.

_-Later-_

Professor McGonagall was just tucking in to her supper when Professor Dumbledore tapped his glass. "I have just been informed that two of our Seventh Year Slytherins have gone missing. If anyone has any information, please inform a teacher.". McGonagall blinked a couple of times, looked to the cheerfully-waving Golden Trio, and pushed her plate away from her.


	2. Conquest

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny? He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkey-ish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

"Ginny!", Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. "Ginny — don't be dead — please don't be dead —", he pleaded. He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be…

"Ginny, please wake up,", Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side. "She won't wake,", said a soft voice.

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him.

"Tom — Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face. "What d'you mean, she won't wake?", Harry said desperately, "She's not — she's not —?"."She's still alive," said Riddle, "But only just.". Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen. "Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly. "A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years.". He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there — but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"You've got to help me, Tom," Harry said, raising Ginny's head again. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk…I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment…Please, help me.". Riddle didn't move. Harry, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again.

But his wand had gone.

"Did you see —?", he began, looking up at Riddle. The boy was still watching him — twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers. "Oh.", Harry said with relief, stretching out his hand for it, "Thanks.".

A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly.

"Listen,", said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight, "We've got to go! If the basilisk comes —", but Riddle interrupted him with a calm, "It won't come until it is called,". Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer, and asked, "What d'you mean?". He shook his head, dismissing the irrelevant question, then said, "Look, give me my wand, I might need it —".

And then Riddle's smile broadened.

He said, "You won't.".

And then Harry knew there was something very wrong.

"What d'you mean, I won't be —?", he began, carefully keeping the panic out of his voice, but Riddle interrupted once again. "I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter.", said Riddle, "For the chance to see you. To speak to you.". "Very flattering,", Harry drawled to hide his nervousness, ", but I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later.".

"We're going to talk now,", said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand.

Yep, something was wrong here.

"How did Ginny get like this?", he asked, trying to keep the edge of fear out of his voice. Riddle had just pocketed his only possible weapon. "Well, that's an interesting question.", said Riddle pleasantly, "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.". "What are you, a poetry book?", Harry snapped, "Just answer the question.".

Riddle quirked an eyebrow but complied nonetheless. "The diary.", he said, "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes — how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how —", Riddle's eyes glinted, "— how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…". All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them. Almost…like…oh Gods.

"You're a pervert, aren't you?", Harry asked suddenly, unable to keep the fear out of his voice any longer. Riddle blinked, the grin slipping off of his face as he registered what Harry had just said. "Wait…what?", he asked confusedly, taking an instinctual step forward, and Harry...

Well, what you have to understand is that Harry had been abused by the Dursleys his whole life. Physically, mentally, emotionally…he thought it was only a matter of time before it turned sexual. Thankfully he had nothing to worry about, but hey; he was twelve. And, well, he was already a bit unhinged from the, er, _incident _the year previously with the Philosopher's Stone. So in that moment, with a supposed pervert bearing down on him, something in Harry kind of…snapped.

…Again.

"Stay away from me!", he yelled, almost shrieked, hoisting Ginny up with a burst of adrenaline, "Pervert! Stranger danger! Rape! Help!". Riddle was staring at Harry incredulously as the Boy-Who-Lived dragged the half-dead redhead away from Slytherin's statue, wondering where on Earth he had pulled _that _conclusion from. Oh well…

"Right.", Riddle sighed, massaging his non-existent temples to ward off the headache he technically couldn't get, "Let's just skip straight to the part where I have the Basilisk kill you.". Miraculously this stopped Harry's screaming, and the boy paused in his flight to ask curiously, "What's a Basilisk?". "An extremely poisonous giant snake that can kill with-", Riddle started carelessly, but was cut off by Harry screaming again. _I suppose I _could _have worded that differently_, he mused, then shook his head and turned to Slytherin's statue. "~_Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts~ _OW!", he yelped, turning to glare at Harry. Said boy had, not five seconds previously, thrown Riddle's diary with startling precision at the back of the boy's head.

One wonders how it even made contact.

"Continuing.", Riddle growled, starting again, "_~Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!~_". He began laughing maniacally as the statue's mouth opened and the Basilisk slid out, but before he could issue a command he was shocked into stillness when Harry began hissing. "_~I have defeated Tom Marvolo Riddle twice before, once on All Hallows Eve of 1981 in Godric's Hollow and once last year in the dungeons of the very school you've been stalking through, and so by the ancient right of conquest, I claim my rightful position as your master.~_, he hissed to the Basilisk, and it cocked it's head to the side curiously before asking, "_~Why on Earth are you talking like that?~_".

"_~It seemed appropriate.~_", Harry hissed, somehow managing to sound deadpan when speaking Parsletongue, then continued, "_~Anyway, bite that diary!~_". The snake blinked for a second, perplexed, but then seemed to stop caring and slithered around to find the book. It opened its mouth and, ever so carefully, pierced the diary with a fang.

"_~Thank you.~_", Harry said graciously as Riddle exploded, then glanced down as Ginny began to stir. He quickly turned her around, hissing to the Basilisk, "_~Any way you can turn off your death glare?~_", and it replied, "_~A second eyelid that blocks the effects completely.~". "~Lower it, if you would. And flick my wand over to me, please.~_", Harry asked it, and it complied.

Ginny's eyes flickered open to find her head resting in the lap of Harry Potter, his hand gently carding through her hair as he smiled down at her softly. She managed to smile back for a moment before the tears overcame her. "Harry — oh, Harry — I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy — it was me, Harry — but I — I s-swear I d-didn't mean to — R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over — and — how did you kill that — that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary…", she sobbed, and Harry Summoned the diary to show her. "It's alright Ginny. See? The diary's finished, and so is Riddle.", he said comfortingly, strategically dodging the unanswered question of the Basilisk, but she was a bit too smart for him.

"A-and the snake?", she hiccupped hopefully, but when Harry didn't answer her eyes grew fearful again. "Uh…don't look up?", he tried, but of course that just made her arch her back to see-

"Oh. She fainted. Well.", Harry said, pursing his lips as Fawkes landed beside him. He looked down at the bird to ask, "I don't suppose you have a way to carry her out of here?". The phoenix looked up at him, and then they were on fire, and then they weren't.

"Why didn't you just do that to rescue her?", he complained to it, and the bird seemed to shrug before fluttering over to his perch. Harry's eyes followed him until he settled, jumping instinctively to Molly Weasley as she shrieked in relieved joy. "Ginny!", she cried, rushing over to the girl, but Harry wasn't paying attention to her. "Fawkes! What about Ron?", he scolded the bird lightly, and he gave Harry a look that seemed to say 'do I have to' before hanging his head and flaming away. He returned a moment later with Ron and Lockhart, much to Harry's chagrin, but he conceded that the blonde-haired idiot couldn't stay down there. Harry rolled his eyes just before he was enveloped in a hug, courtesy of Molly Weasley.

"You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?", she cried wetly, somehow managing to remain coherent through her relieved crying, and Professor McGonagall said weakly, "I think we'd all like to know that.". "I'm pretty sure I have an idea.", Dumbledore interrupted Harry before he could start speaking, his eyes twinkling merrily, "You showed impressive courage, Harry, and loyalty to me, which called Fawkes to you so you could pull the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat to slay the Basilisk.". He was apparently ignoring the fact that the Sorting Hat was sitting on its regular perch, and that the Sword of Gryffindor was nowhere in sight. Harry was immensely confused.

"What? That's crazy! I accused Riddle of being a pervert and took control of the Basilisk while he was stunned.", he said dismissively.

Dumbledore's eye twinkle seemed to bloom into an eye spark for a moment before dimming completely, evidence of his brain short-circuiting. McGonagall's everything was twitching, Mrs. Weasley was staring at Harry, aghast that he knew what a pervert was, and Mr. Weasley was nodding appreciatively. "Effective, it seems.", he said, and Harry replied, "Indubitably.".


	3. Interview

"Well. This is cozy.", Skeeter said with a sickening smile. Harry was a bit nervous, and more than a bit miffed, but she was only a reporter. How bad could she be? It's not like she could - oh Wizard God, she had a Quick Quotes Quill. Herman had warned him about those. They were like Dictaquills, but they printed nothing you said truthfully. In fact, they pretty much made up their own sentences. With dread in his stomach, Harry watched her balance the quill on her notepad, and as she it was she began rapid-firing questions at him. Even though he wasn't even saying one word the quill was scribbling furiously, and Harry managed to catch a few words written on the pad before the quill flipped the page. He was immediately angered. 'Cry myself to sleep over the thought of my parents?!', he mentally screeched, growing angrier and angrier by the second. How _dare _she write those things to be printed in the newspaper?! He was Harry Freakin' Potter! Stuff like this didn't happen to supermegafoxyawesomehot people like him, it simply _didn't_! Finally, though, a sense of calm, cool clarity stole over him as something inside him that never really healed since the incidents from first and second year...snapped. For the third time. And then the clarity was gone, to be replaced by an insanity rivaling Voldemort's.

"LIES!", he shrieked, seizing the quill and pad and kicking the door open," You're writing lies about me! How _dare_ you?!". The other contestants, Ludo, and Ollivander watched with slack jaws as the Boy-Who-Lived, their Champion of Pigfarts (or whatever Harry's fake school was named), went utterly and completely bonkers. "Well, I won't stand for it!", he ranted, "You wanna send lies about me to the _Prophet_? Fine! Then _I'll_ send _truths_ about _you_!". He ripped the written-on pages out of the notepad before balancing the quill and dictating to the scared-straight magical object, "Rita Skeeter, celebrated Head Reporter of the _Daily Prophet_, is in fact an unregistered Animagus!". Ignoring the shocked gasps of those in attendance he continued, "This reporter has discovered that she can, at will, assume the form of a jewel-blue beetle in order to spy on those who have refused her an interview! The next time you want to discuss anything of any great importance, liberal amounts of bug spray is recommended.". Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Rita trying to sneak out the door, but a flick of his wand stopped that notion. "Going so soon? I wouldn't hear of it. Why, my little party's just beginning.", he said, a manic look in his eye.

He turned back to the quill. "Wow, she really is a horrible person.", he mused, grinning at Cedric's laughing before wondering, "I wonder what her Patronus is? Maybe it's Lord Voldemort. Or a Dementor! Or perhaps it's the illegitimate, drunken love-child of said Dark Lord and magical creature! A Voldementor.". He grinned wider at Fleur's giggles, muffled by a hand, and continued, "And what of her Boggart's form? What is her biggest fear? Happiness, maybe? Rainbows, perhaps? How about the laughter of children? Maybe she _herself_ is a Boggart, and Rita Skeeter is simply everybody's greatest fear!". Now even Krum was Krum laughing, a deep rumbling chuckle that shook the desks around them.

Ollivander was rolling about on the floor, laughing, and Ludo Bagman was snickering.

Harry smiled even wider and plucked the paper from the notepad, holding his arm up and calling for Hedwig. As the bird flew in through the nearby window, Rita's eyes widened, and she cried out, "No, please don't! I – I didn't mean for my quill to write things like that! It was an accident, honest!". "Well, my little pretty, I can cause accidents too!", Harry said gleefully, tying the page to Hedwig's leg with an expert quickness and throwing his arm up. "Fly, my pretty, fly!", he yelled after his owl with a bout of maniacal laughter, then looked at Rita and warned, "And if you even _think _about trying this on anybody, ever again, I'll come after you. Just try to stay out of my way, just try. I'll get you, my pretty, and your little quill too!". Then he unshrunk his Firebolt from its place in his pocket, kissed Cedric full on the mouth, and jumped out the window with a cry of, "To the Emerald City, as fast as lightning!".


	4. Detention

Harry tentatively knocked on the door of Umbridge's office, somewhat earlier than usual. He was a bit peeved at having detention before dinner, but Umbridge had assigned so many that his simply _had_ to be bumped up. A sickeningly sweet voice bid him to enter, so he pushed the door open and was momentarily blinded by the brightly lit, bright pink room. After his vision had returned (mostly), he sat down in front of a patiently waiting Umbridge. "I assume you know why you are here?", she asked, and Harry replied, "For telling the truth.". Her smile just a _tad _more strained than before, she took out a piece of parchment and a quill, sliding them across the table to Harry. "You will be writing 'I must not tell lies'.", she told him, and he asked resignedly, "How many times?". "Until the message...sinks in.", she replied pleasantly, and now a bit confused Harry moved to the desk placed against the wall.

As soon as he made the first scratch he mentally recoiled in horror, dropping the quill to the desk. It was a Blood Quill. Herman had warned him about those, as had some of the Huffle-and-Puffle-and-blow-your-house-downs. They used the writer's _own blood_ to write the message, and whatever they wrote was carved on the back of the hand used to write. They were illegal throughout wizard Britain, except to sign certain contracts requiring a blood signature. Harry was pretty sure neither the Ministry nor Professor Dumbledore, the wisest, kindest, most beautiful wizard _ever_ didn't know about it. "Something wrong, Mr. Potter?", Umbridge asked sweetly, and Harry replied in disgust, "That's a Blood Quill.". "I am aware, Mr. Potter. Sit down and write your lines.", she ordered, but Harry was having none of it. "No! Those things are illegal, and illegal for a reason.", he protested.

"No?", Umbridge asked with false cheer, standing up slowly and moving around her desk, "May I remind you, Mr. Potter, that I am your Professor, and as such you have to do as I say. Now sit down and write your lines!". At these words she seized Harry's arms and tried to force him into the chair, but at that moment his mind flashed back to second year, to a perverted memory that had tried to molest him (as far as he was concerned) and something inside him that had only recently been repaired...snapped.

Well, more like crumbled.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!", he screamed, as loud as he could and with as much fear as he could muster. He began struggling wildly, thrashing against Umbridge as he screamed various things along the lines of, "Rape!", "Cougar!", "I thought the princess was supposed to kiss the frog, not the evil step-grandmother!", and, of course, the ever popular, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!". Umbridge released him after a few moments of struggling and the poor boy scrambled back, scrabbling for his wand and pointing it at Umbridge. "Don't come near me! I'm warning you!", he yelled, his hand shaking wildly. Umbridge smiled benignly and said, "Come now, Mr. Potter, you are entirely too old for these shenanigans. Please return to your seat and start your lines.". "NO!", he shouted fearfully, "And stay back! If you try to make me, I'll melt you!". Umbridge raised an eyebrow and said, "A fifth year could not possibly know how to work such advanced magic. Come now, Mr. Potter.", taking a step forward with her hand outstretched. Harry let loose with aguamenti.

Harry Potter was enjoying his dinner when his Head of House walked up to him with a questioning look on her face. "Mr. Potter, students who had detention with Professor Umbridge told me she was nowhere to be found. You were the last to have detention with her, so do you know where she is?", she asked. The entire Hall was silent, awaiting his answer, and so without looking up from his paper he replied quite casually, "She tried to rape me, so I melted her with aguamenti.".

Every Muggleborn in the hall burst out laughing.

_**This one was a bit forced, and admittedly not as funny as Interview. If anybody has any ideas for possible improvements on this one or sequels, feel free to voice them in your reviews.**_


	5. Lessons

"Shut the door behind you, Potter.", Snape ordered, and Harry did as he was told with a horrible feeling of imprisoning himself. When he turned back into the room, Snape had moved into the light and was pointing silently at the chair opposite his desk. Harry sat down and so did Snape, his cold black eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Harry with dislike etched in every line on his face. "Well, Potter, you know why you are here,", he said, "The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than at Potions.". "Right.", Harry said tersely, his head trying to remind him of something. Something important…

"This may not be an ordinary class, Potter,", said Snape, his eyes narrowed malevolently, "but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me 'sir' or 'Professor' at all times.". "Yes…_sir._", said Harry. "Now, Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather's kitchen, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence.". "And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?", Harry asked, looking directly into Snape's eyes and wondering whether the Potions Master would answer. Snape looked back at him for a moment and then said contemptuously, "Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency-", but Harry interrupted with, "What's that? _Sir_?". "It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind-", Snape began, and was again cut off by the Boy-Who-Lived. "He can read minds?!", Harry nearly shrieked, his eyes widening in horror, but Snape quipped, "You have no subtlety, Potter, nor do you understand the fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker.". "Actually, that's because of your complete inability to actually teach, but please continue.", Harry implored with a dazzling smile. Snape had to blink quickly to keep from going blind, even though there wasn't actually much light for Harry's teeth to reflect.

"Right.", Snape growled, obviously annoyed and thrown out of the mood to explain as he stood up and took out his wand. He smirked at Harry's flinch, but merely raised his wand to his temple and drew out a strand of memory. He flicked the silvery substance into a Pensieve and repeated twice more, picking the shallow bowl up and placing it on a shelf out of the way. He faced Harry and snapped, "Stand, Potter, and take out your wand!". Harry quickly complied, standing uncertainly as Snape composed his thoughts. "I am going to attempt to penetrate your mental defences with Legilimency. You may use whatever power you possess to stop me. I have been told that you are at least somewhat competent at throwing off the Imperius Curse, and so you will be grateful to know that this is similar to that. Now…brace yourself. _Legilimens!_".

Snape had struck before Harry was ready, before he could even think about thinking about thinking about summoning some form of resistance. The office swam in front of his eyes and vanished, image after image racing through his mind like a blinding film reel. He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle with jealousy…he was nine, being chased up the tree by Ripper…he was sitting under the Sorting Hat, being told he would be great in Slytherin…and then, through some great universal prank (the Weasley twins were infecting it, I'm sure), Snape chose to focus on the memory of Umbridge's detention. And that's when something inside him, something that hadn't had time to heal since then …snapped. And then crumbled. And then was set on fire.

The scene immediately shifted to a place of stuffy darkness, and Snape found himself shoved into a tiny space with no way out and no way to see. Harry, who was watching through the one-way walls from his place standing on…well, nothing, watched in fascination as light only he could see revealed him to be in... Oh ho ho ho, this was gonna be fun. He smiled evilly and closed his eyes, wondering if he could…maybe just…

"BOY! Get up and make breakfast!", Vernon roared, unlocking the door of the cupboard under the stairs and pulling 'Harry' out by his greasy hair. Harry stepped out of sight around the doorframe before Snape could catch sight of him, not entirely trusting his own mind to keep him hidden from the most-likely-irate Potions Master. "What are you blathering about, you bumbling oaf?", Snape demanded, but this proved to be the wrong thing to say as Vernon backhanded him across the face. "No backtalk! Get in the kitchen and cook breakfast!", Vernon roared again, and Snape narrowed his eyes before going for his wand. 'Oh…oops.', Harry thought with a laugh, looking down at the wand clutched in his hand. "Potter! Get out here! Show yourself!", Snape yelled, completely ignoring the purpling beluga whale in front of him, but was stunned when Vernon grabbed him by the back of his cloak. "I said MAKE BREAKFAST!", Vernon all but screamed, spittle flying onto Snape's face before he was quite literally thrown into the kitchen. He picked himself up off the floor, throwing a disdainful 'hmmph' at Petunia Dursley before crossing to the back door and heaving it open to see…the front hall. Indeed, through the doorway he could see himself looking at himself looking at himself looking at…well, you get the picture. "Breakfast! Now!", Petunia screeched, thrusting a pan into Snape's hands and pushing him toward the stove. He growled, seized the woman, and opened the oven door, fully intending on stuffing her in, but when he opened it a miniature centaur bounded out. It quickly grew to normal size and picked Snape up easily, trotting to the front hall and up the stairs to the Petunia and Vernon's bedroom.

Harry watched with fearful eyes as the Potions Master was dragged up the stairs kicking and screaming, grinning at Snape and pushing the scenario into _his _mind (along with a psyche-lock, ensuring he couldn't escape before it was over). Then he waved cheerfully and vanished from the scene.

"Mr. Potter.", Minnie said, wary to approach the boy after the whole Umbridge fiasco, "I abhore having to do this, but I must ask…where is Professor Snape? Nobody has seen him since yesterday.". Harry looked up from his breakfast and blinked, then glanced at the rest of the hall and stood up. He made his way to the front of the room and held his hands up for quiet. Then, with a solemn look on his face, he said, "A toast, to Professor Snape.". The students and staff looked confused, but nonetheless raised their goblets in Snape's honor. As they sipped their drinks in reverence of the fallen man, Harry said sadly, "Tragically mind-raped by a centaur while trying to teach me Occlumency.". Half the first through third years fainted, the other half started coughing and fell to the ground with red faces, the fourth through sixth years spat their drinks all over themselves and each other, and the seventh years calmly resumed their breakfast. They were used to this sort of thing by now…


End file.
